The Stolen Empanada... This fried beauty was better than a lot of frybread I have eaten... and it was only 40 cents.
Can´t get this picture to not be sideways.
Viva Quito
Graffiti Competition
¨The only virgin in Quito¨is the joke around here.Hello again! It´s been so long since I have posted that I am going to flood you with information. I am now in Quito Ecuador, staying with a friend of the incredible Jess, whom I met in the most boring biostatistics class in the world. Jess came to Ecuador with a public health study abroad program I have been thinking of doing for a long time (more on that later), and made many friends here. Now I am fortunate to meet those friends and see Ecuador from there perspective. I am staying with Ave (Estaban) and Rafa (Rafael), and they announced on my first night that I am the ¨Queen of la casa.¨ They are only the beginning of the incredibly interesting people I am meeting here. Ave teaches literature and philosophy at a highschool and makes short films, Rafa is going to university and recording great music, his current projects are a unique mix of rock and calypso (Joan - I will try and get a copy of some of his music for you). Ave and Rafa have one of those perfect roommate relationships where they get along and enjoy living with eachother, but have totally different groups of friends. This is good for me because I get to know a broader group of people here (met Rafa´s friend Pablo who works on reforestation projects, hopefully I will get to go plant trees and do a community education day trip with him to a community an hour north of Quito!!! Cross your fingers for me!). I also really get to LIVE here, to wake up in the morning, play with and feed the street dog we have taken in (the dog´s name is Trapo or rag and he prefers to sleep on my bed), have my glass of milk and pastry while listening to some of Rafa´s extensive music collection... life is good to say the least.
Currently Quito is a very busy place because we are right in the middle of Fiestas de Quito. Before coming here I had no idea what Fiestas de Quito was about, but now I know that it is a celebration of the (spanish) foundation of Quito and it is made up of much partying (on Chiva buses, that drive around with the saddest sounding bands aboard the top and people drinking below) and bull fights.
On the subject of bull fights: Cullen alerted me that these would be going on while I was here (he is somewhere in Ecuador or the Galapagos currently) and so I got some time to think about them when I was in Costa Rica. My first thought was ¨um gross animal cruelty.¨ Then I thought a bit about how PETA reacts to our ¨world famous¨ suicide race in Omak... I fully support the continuation of the suicide race tradition, so I considered the possibility that maybe I am being overly judgemental of a cultural event. But then I thought ¨you know, we don´t stab the horses in the suicide race.¨ So my final thought is ¨um gross animal cruelty.¨
I´m in good company with this thinking. I haven´t met a person here in Quito that likes the bull fights. That is mostly because I have been enjoying Quito Fest, a collection of heavy metal, rock, punk, ska, hip hop and rap concerts that are taking place in opposition to the bullfights and are openly questioning the celebration of the Spanish foundation of Quito after so many years of oppression and violence... ¨Soy una Indigena, Soy una Indigena¨...These lyrics being yelled into the mic tell me I am in the right place. Friday night, Saturday night, and most of Sunday I spent at concerts with all kinds of music and messages. Sunday was especially good, and the concert took place at a park with a great view of Quito. It was there that I purchased my first Quito souveneir, a button crossing out a dieing bull that says ¨Tortura, Ni Arte, Ni Cultura.¨ It was also there that I was dumbstruck by the unpredictability of my travels. I stood admist a crowd of Ecuadorians watching an incredible rap-rock group from France while a graffiti competition was going on over to my left and really just couldn´t believe that life works in this way.
Other Quito highlights have been: The food, the food, the food! I admit some things I have tried have been less than thrilling, like cow tongue on my first day and the whole fried fish I was served for lunch today (I realize now I was silly to think I was ordering fish and chips type fish). But at the concerts I tried Mote and this delicious potato thing that I don´t know the name of...basically a fried mashed potato exterior and veggie and chicken interior with THE BEST veggie salsa I have had, some variation of the agi or aji salsa served with every meal. I also had a sit down lunch made by Ave´s father, whom Ave says is probably even a better cook than his mother. Later when I was hanging out with Ave´s little brother we related on the experience of growing up with a family situation with a daddy that was more of what I, from a very young age, knew as a ¨Moddy.¨ A dad that does all the things that are more commonly considered to be mommy or women´s things in our society. He took care of me, cooking, playing, housework... Mateo (Ave´s brother) and I both agree that having a Moddy is really a great way to grow up in this world. I especially benefited from having a father that taught me that our history is full of women warriors, that women can do all that men can do and more, that there are no gender roles or rules, that I can be what Steve (selam, not my dad) referred to me as, ¨a ribbon-shirt girl.¨
So I got on a tangent. Overall message: the food here is delicious.
I really like getting to see peoples houses here. Right now I am in the house that Rafa grew up in, which is now more of an office building for a company that I believe has something to do with Rafa´s father´s work. I don´t really know details, but Rafa´s father (is, was, not even sure of that status) an amazing artist that did work in collaboration with Disney. Here in the house-office and in Rafa and Ave´s apartment there are some of the multi-layered illustrations used for his films. Now Rafa records music and does homework here. The house is really stunning to me, I think this might be what one would call a town house? I am really not familiar with many types of houses or their appropriate nomenclature, but this place even has a sauna. Wow. Another great house is the home of Dani and Victoria´s family. Winding staircases and interconnected multi level rooms with a room that is their mother´s pottery studio fully equiped with a kiln. Upstairs there is an elaborate miniture nativity-city of Beth. that their mother made with every single detail imaginable. Their father, Ave tells me, is a well known mime. It´s families like this that fascinate me. Dani´s cousin is going to teach me how to salsa, she knows how to do all sorts of different dances and is sympathetic to my cause. I am always asked to dance salsa at clubs in Seattle because I look latina... and despite Angelo Baca´s effort to teach me, my salsa skills are lacking entirely.
Speaking of looking Latina... I am not all that surprised that people in Seattle think that I am latina. It´s pretty much never other Latin@s that make this assumption, just people who wouldn´t ever assume that any person is Native American unless they are sitting next to a teepee. Well actually, no that´s not true, other Latin@s do think I am latina, but mostly when I am at settings that would aid that assumption (just to clarify).
What has been surprising is how many people in my travels have thought the same. Wherever I go there are people that either assume I am from there or have family there or have a latina background of some sort. This happens especially if I haven´t had a chance to show how ridiculously awful my spanish is, but even then people dream up these scenerios that maybe I grew up in the U.S. while my dad or family lives in ________ (insert Latin American country here). I have been told repeatedly that I just don´t look American, I don´t look gringa. In BlueFields I was described by a bartender as ¨A Spaniard girl who speaks english very well¨ when he was calling my friend Daniel, the bar owner´s son, to let him know I was looking for him. When I say that I am Native American (Aborigine/Indigena de Estados Unidos) it seems to make sense to people that I look so different from anything they consider to be American, that I am more like most latin@s because I am... and this is really a strange thought for myself... A Mestizo. We don´t have that racial category in the states, in the states I am mixed or more often by hyperdescent I am Native. When people ask ¨what are you?¨ in Seattle they aren´t interested in hearing about my Danish ancestry, they want to know why I am brown. This identity does give me a unique ¨in¨ that other travelers may not experience. Strange as it sounds I look like I could be from most places that I go, and when people find out I am not it inspires conversations about indigenous people in the US and indigenas whereever I am. I don´t remember if I said this before, but looking like a local has its perks. Like getting into see the Masaya volcano in Nicaragua for the resident price instead of the tourist price. Or just getting less harrassment from men and being viewed as less tourist-like. I may even be less of a target for theives, which leads me to another story...
Today was the first time I have had something stolen from me on this trip. I was on top of the world, I had made my way to the city center all by myself, wandered around, had lunch, found a very comfortable pair of jeans (if you think shopping for jeans in the US is a nightmare, come to Ecuador... it takes a great deal of time and energy... and money), and out of no where found what looked and smelled like FRY BREAD. I found fry bread in Nicaragua, though I didn´t try it, and I am not sure whether or not I posted the picture of it. I asked a young guy what he was eating and he told me it was an empeñada and let me try a piece of his. He explained what was in it and the two most important things, its Rica and Barato. So I bought one... it cost maybe 25 cents and was huge with sugar sprinkled on top and cheese somewhere in the middle. In my excitement of finding Ecuadorian fry bread I decided to take a picture of it before eating any more of it and I started walking down the narrow sidewalk with my camera in my right hand and the empañada in the left. Walking up the sidewalk was a man without a shirt, his head was down and he had blankets resting on his shoulders. He looked up at me and I could tell that he wasn´t going to move to make room for me so I swerved to the left to go around him and just as I did his hand reached out, fingers clawed, lightning fast and snatched away.... the empañada. I was in shock, upset over the surprise of what had happened and losing my treat, but mostly AMAZED that he didn´t steal my camera instead. It was closer to him, it could buy him much more food than the empañada, but he didn´t take it. I can´t make assumptions about what went into his decision making, but I am very thankful that I still have my camera and hope he finds more nutricious and fulfilling food tonight, whether or not this requires stealing.
Currently Quito is a very busy place because we are right in the middle of Fiestas de Quito. Before coming here I had no idea what Fiestas de Quito was about, but now I know that it is a celebration of the (spanish) foundation of Quito and it is made up of much partying (on Chiva buses, that drive around with the saddest sounding bands aboard the top and people drinking below) and bull fights.
On the subject of bull fights: Cullen alerted me that these would be going on while I was here (he is somewhere in Ecuador or the Galapagos currently) and so I got some time to think about them when I was in Costa Rica. My first thought was ¨um gross animal cruelty.¨ Then I thought a bit about how PETA reacts to our ¨world famous¨ suicide race in Omak... I fully support the continuation of the suicide race tradition, so I considered the possibility that maybe I am being overly judgemental of a cultural event. But then I thought ¨you know, we don´t stab the horses in the suicide race.¨ So my final thought is ¨um gross animal cruelty.¨
I´m in good company with this thinking. I haven´t met a person here in Quito that likes the bull fights. That is mostly because I have been enjoying Quito Fest, a collection of heavy metal, rock, punk, ska, hip hop and rap concerts that are taking place in opposition to the bullfights and are openly questioning the celebration of the Spanish foundation of Quito after so many years of oppression and violence... ¨Soy una Indigena, Soy una Indigena¨...These lyrics being yelled into the mic tell me I am in the right place. Friday night, Saturday night, and most of Sunday I spent at concerts with all kinds of music and messages. Sunday was especially good, and the concert took place at a park with a great view of Quito. It was there that I purchased my first Quito souveneir, a button crossing out a dieing bull that says ¨Tortura, Ni Arte, Ni Cultura.¨ It was also there that I was dumbstruck by the unpredictability of my travels. I stood admist a crowd of Ecuadorians watching an incredible rap-rock group from France while a graffiti competition was going on over to my left and really just couldn´t believe that life works in this way.
Other Quito highlights have been: The food, the food, the food! I admit some things I have tried have been less than thrilling, like cow tongue on my first day and the whole fried fish I was served for lunch today (I realize now I was silly to think I was ordering fish and chips type fish). But at the concerts I tried Mote and this delicious potato thing that I don´t know the name of...basically a fried mashed potato exterior and veggie and chicken interior with THE BEST veggie salsa I have had, some variation of the agi or aji salsa served with every meal. I also had a sit down lunch made by Ave´s father, whom Ave says is probably even a better cook than his mother. Later when I was hanging out with Ave´s little brother we related on the experience of growing up with a family situation with a daddy that was more of what I, from a very young age, knew as a ¨Moddy.¨ A dad that does all the things that are more commonly considered to be mommy or women´s things in our society. He took care of me, cooking, playing, housework... Mateo (Ave´s brother) and I both agree that having a Moddy is really a great way to grow up in this world. I especially benefited from having a father that taught me that our history is full of women warriors, that women can do all that men can do and more, that there are no gender roles or rules, that I can be what Steve (selam, not my dad) referred to me as, ¨a ribbon-shirt girl.¨
So I got on a tangent. Overall message: the food here is delicious.
I really like getting to see peoples houses here. Right now I am in the house that Rafa grew up in, which is now more of an office building for a company that I believe has something to do with Rafa´s father´s work. I don´t really know details, but Rafa´s father (is, was, not even sure of that status) an amazing artist that did work in collaboration with Disney. Here in the house-office and in Rafa and Ave´s apartment there are some of the multi-layered illustrations used for his films. Now Rafa records music and does homework here. The house is really stunning to me, I think this might be what one would call a town house? I am really not familiar with many types of houses or their appropriate nomenclature, but this place even has a sauna. Wow. Another great house is the home of Dani and Victoria´s family. Winding staircases and interconnected multi level rooms with a room that is their mother´s pottery studio fully equiped with a kiln. Upstairs there is an elaborate miniture nativity-city of Beth. that their mother made with every single detail imaginable. Their father, Ave tells me, is a well known mime. It´s families like this that fascinate me. Dani´s cousin is going to teach me how to salsa, she knows how to do all sorts of different dances and is sympathetic to my cause. I am always asked to dance salsa at clubs in Seattle because I look latina... and despite Angelo Baca´s effort to teach me, my salsa skills are lacking entirely.
Speaking of looking Latina... I am not all that surprised that people in Seattle think that I am latina. It´s pretty much never other Latin@s that make this assumption, just people who wouldn´t ever assume that any person is Native American unless they are sitting next to a teepee. Well actually, no that´s not true, other Latin@s do think I am latina, but mostly when I am at settings that would aid that assumption (just to clarify).
What has been surprising is how many people in my travels have thought the same. Wherever I go there are people that either assume I am from there or have family there or have a latina background of some sort. This happens especially if I haven´t had a chance to show how ridiculously awful my spanish is, but even then people dream up these scenerios that maybe I grew up in the U.S. while my dad or family lives in ________ (insert Latin American country here). I have been told repeatedly that I just don´t look American, I don´t look gringa. In BlueFields I was described by a bartender as ¨A Spaniard girl who speaks english very well¨ when he was calling my friend Daniel, the bar owner´s son, to let him know I was looking for him. When I say that I am Native American (Aborigine/Indigena de Estados Unidos) it seems to make sense to people that I look so different from anything they consider to be American, that I am more like most latin@s because I am... and this is really a strange thought for myself... A Mestizo. We don´t have that racial category in the states, in the states I am mixed or more often by hyperdescent I am Native. When people ask ¨what are you?¨ in Seattle they aren´t interested in hearing about my Danish ancestry, they want to know why I am brown. This identity does give me a unique ¨in¨ that other travelers may not experience. Strange as it sounds I look like I could be from most places that I go, and when people find out I am not it inspires conversations about indigenous people in the US and indigenas whereever I am. I don´t remember if I said this before, but looking like a local has its perks. Like getting into see the Masaya volcano in Nicaragua for the resident price instead of the tourist price. Or just getting less harrassment from men and being viewed as less tourist-like. I may even be less of a target for theives, which leads me to another story...
Today was the first time I have had something stolen from me on this trip. I was on top of the world, I had made my way to the city center all by myself, wandered around, had lunch, found a very comfortable pair of jeans (if you think shopping for jeans in the US is a nightmare, come to Ecuador... it takes a great deal of time and energy... and money), and out of no where found what looked and smelled like FRY BREAD. I found fry bread in Nicaragua, though I didn´t try it, and I am not sure whether or not I posted the picture of it. I asked a young guy what he was eating and he told me it was an empeñada and let me try a piece of his. He explained what was in it and the two most important things, its Rica and Barato. So I bought one... it cost maybe 25 cents and was huge with sugar sprinkled on top and cheese somewhere in the middle. In my excitement of finding Ecuadorian fry bread I decided to take a picture of it before eating any more of it and I started walking down the narrow sidewalk with my camera in my right hand and the empañada in the left. Walking up the sidewalk was a man without a shirt, his head was down and he had blankets resting on his shoulders. He looked up at me and I could tell that he wasn´t going to move to make room for me so I swerved to the left to go around him and just as I did his hand reached out, fingers clawed, lightning fast and snatched away.... the empañada. I was in shock, upset over the surprise of what had happened and losing my treat, but mostly AMAZED that he didn´t steal my camera instead. It was closer to him, it could buy him much more food than the empañada, but he didn´t take it. I can´t make assumptions about what went into his decision making, but I am very thankful that I still have my camera and hope he finds more nutricious and fulfilling food tonight, whether or not this requires stealing.
No comments:
Post a Comment